


Shots

by flippantninny



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippantninny/pseuds/flippantninny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the one word prompt 'Shots'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shots

It was just a couple of shots each. Two little shots. That’s all they had anyway, the one, almost empty bottle of tequila was just enough for most of the group to have a couple of shots and a select few, Daryl, Rick and Michonne, to have none. Someone had to stay guard after all.

But then Maggie finished her two shots and proclaimed it wasn’t enough and ran off to her tent, emerging a few seconds later with a full bottle of vodka.

"I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, but they never seem to come, so help yourselves," Maggie said, unscrewing the cap and having a sip before passing it to Glenn.

It had all been downhill from there.

Daryl was meant to be watching for walkers, but instead he found himself watching his friends and family running around the camp. Eugene was flirting with Tara, who alternating between listening to him, laughing, glancing at Rosita, and yelling “fuck off Eugene I don’t like dicks!”. Maggie and Glenn had disappeared and Daryl didn’t like to think too much about where they were. Rosita and Abraham hadn’t disappeared, and they made Daryl glad Maggie and Glenn at least had the decency to disappear when they wanted to have some fun. Carl was begging his father to let him have some. Tyreese, Sasha, and Bob were laughing about something, though Daryl didn’t think they even knew what, while Carol, who’d had a little to drink but was certainly not drunk, was holding Judith.

And then there was Beth, sitting on her own, staring at the fire with the same contemplative look on her face she had had the first time she’d been drunk

Daryl pushed himself up, figuring they could survive a few moments with only Michonne on guard duty, and walked over to Beth.

"I don’t like the way you’re starin’ at that fire," he said as he got closer.

"Just thinking," she replied, looking up at him

"You shouldn’t be thinkin’ while drunk, it’s dangerous, last time you ended up burnin’ down a house," he said, sitting beside her.

She smiled at him, “seem to remember you burned down that house too,” she said.

"Yeah, but I was drunk and it was your idea."

She laughed. Giggled. He’d almost forgotten what she was like when she was drunk. Happy wasn’t quite the right word for it. She smiled and laughed and was in a good mood, but the things she said, the way she said them, it wasn’t happy at all. She was a thoughtful drunk.

"I’m glad we burned it down," she said, leaning slightly to rest her head on his shoulder, "I think I learned more about you in that one night than I did in months before that."

Daryl nodded, “not sure a repeat would be good though, might piss some people off if we burn our house down.”

Beth giggled again, then picked up his arm, placing it over her shoulder. “‘m cold,” she said, when he looked at her questioningly. He chose not to go into their proximity to the fire and the alcohol in her system which combined almost guaranteed she wasn’t cold.

"I was wrong before, you know," she said, resting her head against his chest.

“‘bout what?” he asked.

"I said you’d be the last man standing," she replied.

He laughed, “don’t know what’s worse, you talkin’ ‘bout how everyone’s gonna die before me or you talkin’ ‘bout how I’m gonna die.”

She tilted her head to look up at him, “that’s not what I meant, I still think you could outlast all of us if you wanted. I just think you’d do anything to keep us here.”

He traced his thumb against her arm, tightening his grip. She’d done it again, managed to be the saddest happy drunk he’d ever met.

"I’d die for you if I had too," she said quietly, "I’m just not blind enough to ignore that if you were trying to save me, and I was trying to save you, I’d be the one to come out of it alive."

He frowned, looking down at her, unsure of how she managed to know him so well, if she was aware of all the times he had stepped in front of a walker or pushed her behind him to make sure she remained safe, even if it meant he was put at risk.

She looked away again, resting her head back against his chest and closing her eyes.

“‘m going to sleep now, ” she said.

He leant down, placing a kiss against her head as she grew heavier against him, the alcohol sending her to sleep as soon as her eyes shut.. She was right, he would do anything to keep her safe. He wouldn’t be the last man standing. She would.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really like getting Beth or Daryl or Beth&Daryl drunk to be honest.


End file.
